4 BBY Naboo
"The situation is handled, sir." I duck my unhelmeted head to the Moff who waits with the others behind a line of security officers and troopers who have helped to secure the premises here on Naboo. Leia is back with her parents, and safe aboard the Venator in orbit along with several other guests. The assailants who were apprehended will be questioned later and the bodies are being dealt with. I'm sure someone will have plenty of questions for the Zann Consortium. Particularly, why they got involved.
I suspect this was some sort of bounty, or a ploy to get their hands on a bargaining chip. It wouldn't be the first time they'd pulled a stunt like this. I still remember Fondor.
The Moff sighs as he approaches me. His arms are crossed over his chest, a sign he was nervous. He likely still is. An attack of this size when we were expecting mere rebels has shaken many. Those who remain here are among the highest order, though, smoothing over the details.
"Kian," he calls out, his voice stiff to keep out the fear. "You did well securing the princess."
I shrug. "I did what I had to."
One of the black armored troopers wanders toward me. Removing his helmet, I find myself face to face with Headshot again.
"Kian's good at being a leader, even if he won't say it," Headshot comments. "Permission to brag about you, sir?"
I glare at him. "Just say what you're going to say and get back to work."
Headshot puts a hand on my shoulder. "I wanted to say," he looks at the Moff, "you picked a good man."
I avoid his stare and look at the Moff. Headshot pulls back and frowns. "And an anti social one at that."
I'm glad to see you too. I've been thinking about it since we met in the ballroom, but I know if I say it to Headshot's face, though, it'll just reopen the wound. I turn to the Moff and try not to notice Headshots lingering stare before he wanders back to work.
"Sir, how's the situation here?" I keep my voice stoic.
"It's handled," the Moff says firmly. "But–" he glances to his right. I follow his gaze and notice the blue skinned Admiral from the party is watching me from amid the crowd of ranking officers. He turns his head, speaking in words I cannot hear. I recognize the sharp hawk-faced Moff however: Tarkin.
After their secret exchange, they both break from position and stride toward me and Moff Sharn. Sharn stiffens as Tarkin's eyes lock on us both and do not leave. The man is a predator. I've seen him a few times. Enough to know I'd rather not join the gladiator match that is politics with him.
It's not Tarkin that speaks, however. The admiral beside him, whose race I have to say I'm unfamiliar with, he broaches the conversation first. "Have you presented my proposition yet, Moff?"
Tarkin raises a single eyebrow, and that is all the question he needs to provide.
"No." Moff Sharn looks at me. "Kian, we must speak somewhere private."
"Sir, this building is on lockdown. We are still—"
"We can speak in the Queen's private throne room," the Admiral cuts in. "It is vacant, and well within the safe areas."
"Yessir." I keep my head up.
The Admiral nods to Moff Sharn, dismissing him. "We shall handle this."
The Admiral breaks away, followed by Tarkin, and Sharn nods for me to follow. I obey, only because I don't know what sort of trouble I've gotten myself into now.
I don't think I defied any direct orders.
The two escort me into a small ante-chamber for a smaller, more private throne room. I close the door behind myself and stick my helmet on my hip. My hand lingers by my blaster, should further threat appear.
Moff Tarkin sighs with an expression that one can only describe as disappointment. "I always expect Sharn to have spoken up, and he never does. Thrawn, please handle this."
"Sharn always preferred waiting. It's his weakness."
"Sirs?" I look between them. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Officer Kian, or shall I say, Lieutenant," the blue skinned man, Admiral Thrawn, turns with hands folded firmly behind his back. He paces quietly, yet deliberately across the room so that he is able to look down at me. "I proposed to Moff Sharn a promotion. Yours."
"Mine?"
"Yes, trooper. You see, I've had the chance to inspect your documents. The Admiral Rent you worked under in your early days highly recommends your skills, and after tonight, it's clear his recommendation was right."
"Sir, I work in training rookies. I simply—"
"Listen to him." Tarkin instructs.
I nod firmly.
"I have proposed an operation I shall for now, refrain from naming. But it stems from an agency you are familiar with, the ISB. You are up as one of the candidates."
"I don't work on teams."
"I have read your records."
I look down at my boots. "Sir, I'm quite content where I am."
"Don't lie," Moff Tarkin scoffs. "You're a clone. You and your brothers were made for one purpose, and one purpose alone."
"What did you think you would do when the war ended?" Thrawn asked. "What were your...aspirations, Lieutenant?"
Aspirations? I had some, once. I don't really remember them. They're more of a fleeting dream from a past I've left behind. I don't need aspirations.
"Sir, I live to fight and die for the peace of the universe," I mutter.
"Then why do you waste away training soldiers?"
"Because—" I have no other answer. I can only look in Thrawn's deep red eyes and know that his question is purely rhetorical.
I'm afraid to lose someone else.
Thrawn nods. "Think about it, Lieutenant. I shall have the analyst I've selected for the team reach out. I'm sure you've had an exhausting night." He breaks his gaze and exits the room.
Tarkin alone remains. The Moff's aura is like that of a nexu, ready to pounce. He'd eat me alive, and the universe too if someone bigger than him weren't holding the leash. His gaze bores into me. "Don't waste your talents. You are a good man, and a better soldier." Tarkin raises his chin and looks down on me, "And without your leadership tonight, someone well may well have died."
My jaw clenches.
Tarkin turns. "Think on that, soldier."
#
4 BBY Aboard the Malevolent
The door slides open. Moff Sharn instructed me to meet someone in the debriefing room, but it's been almost an hour. I look up anyway, trying to keep the boredom out of my eyes as a young woman enters. She's like a spitting female image of Thrawn, except I think her skin might be a darker blue. Her eyes have the same piercing red.
I stand up straighter.
"Forgive me," her eyes are on her datapad. "Several of the files I'm supposed to be presenting you with were not submitted in a timely manner," she looks up.
"Are you the Lieutenant?"
"Yes ma'am. I take it you're Myren? The Moff said you're here on behalf of the Admiral."
She bobs her head firmly. "Correct.."
"So you're the second round of convincing?" I cross my arms over my chest.
Myren merely casts the information on her datapad to the holo table. "I've sent you several dossiers, Lieutenant. These will be the pool of candidates for your team. They are the best of the best."
"Are they now?"
"I hand picked them myself. My dossier is among them, if you are so inclined as to doubt."
"I see."
Myren looks up. Faces clutter up the holographic display. "Many of these men and women come highly recommended already, but I sifted through their data to see who could be compatible with someone like...you."
I can't tell if she's complimenting me, or pointing out the obvious insult. I just stare at the data. "I see a few familiar faces."
"There are also bounty hunters, criminals on good behavior, I trust you'll pick the ones whom you find fit."
"Wait, I haven't agreed to anything yet."
Myren nods. "I know. I simply want you to read up on these people. This will be your team if you so choose."
"And if I don't choose?"
"Then someone else will step up." Myren sets down the datapad. "But I've read your files too, Lieutenant. If you ask me, you're more than qualified and refusing to acknowledge it will not keep you safe."
I look down at my hands. Everywhere I go, death follows. Maybe that's my fault. Maybe it's a hazard of the job.
But if I stand idly by, death will go on following. Do not make sacrifices in vain. Do not leave another generation of children to pick up our burdens.
Nyo sacrificed himself for me. Mer'en taught me what it was like to be strong in the face of death. And Aftermath told me that when all else fails, take your anger out on something and make the universe a far less dangerous place.
Among the faces before me there is not even one that looks like mine. But these people have families, and brothers, and sisters. They have hopes and dreams, and I cannot in my right mind lead them into death.
"Give me...a little more time," I say.
Myren nods and her expression softens into a look I would've hated once. But Myren doesn't pity me, she sympathizes. She understands, and I dare say, she's angry that I don't.
Myren picks up her datapad with a small pursed frown and turns. "Take as much time as you need."
#
4 BBY The Director's Office
"Welcome." The director, a man I've never met before, waits as I and several others are ushered into his office. It is something of a debriefing room at the moment.
Myren's face catches my eye as she stands by, waiting on us. She's in a white ISB uniform, but I know from the paperwork I had to sign, she's one of ours.
I myself offer the Director only a casual salute. Call it habit. I can't really bring myself to muster respect where none is yet owed. I look at the others, though. This is the first time they've all been in the same room together. I know who I selected at the end of the year, but the paperwork took months.
Sometimes I still can't believe this is the decision I made. We don't look like we fit together at all.
We have Zur, the Zabrak bounty hunter, a former prisoner, who was suggested for his particular skill sets in martial arts. Dross, a man I assume will become shortly insufferable, is academy trained and highly recommended. R3, that trusty old unit I haven't seen in years, he was an obvious choice. And Jay, a last minute stand in. I did not initially ask for him, but the man I requested was found dead.
Some allowances had to be made.
This is my team now. This is Winterfang.
"Captain Kian," the Director calls out. He spreads his hands across his desk. "Thank you for coming, and agreeing to our little operation. And to you all," One by one, the Director looks at each face. "From this day forward, you shall all be operatives of Winterfang. You shall not speak this name unless authorized. We are a secret arm of the Empire, and you were all made aware when you were read in."
"Yessir," the whole group choruses the firm response.
I nod.
"This is your Captain, Kian," the director gestures to me. "Myren here will serve as your main analyst. You shall be provided whatever you need, with discretion."
I glance at Myren.
She glances back. I think she smiles.
The director goes on. "You will be allowed to recruit, the details of which Myren will handle as this is an operation we plan to expand in time, but for now, we must move quickly into business. Your first mission has already been arranged, and should you survive, you shall be firmly instated as true Winterfang operatives."
I scan the room. Every face here is hardened with a past. We've all left something behind.
We were all once children. Children asked to fight a war we didn't understand. A war we couldn't comprehend. And now we stand here men and women. We've seen horrors. Faced death. We have nothing left to lose. For that, we will fight the war here and now. So that no child must ever lose what we lost.
I grip my helmet firm at my side. I am proud, and I know they would be too. This is only a step. A never-ending march. But we do it together, as a team.
We were children and they sent us to die. But we survived.